


Welcome the Ghosts

by SeemaG



Series: Tightrope [20]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Developing Friendships, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 05:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG
Summary: Mortimer Harren cannot sleep so he takes the opportunity to pay Megan Delaney a visit. Takes place two weeks after the events of "Biting the Hand". Story #20 in the Tightrope series.
Series: Tightrope [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797067
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Welcome the Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Rocky for the beta!

Mortimer Harren took a deep breath outside the cabin door and then signaled for entry. As he waited for a response, he shifted from foot to foot, nervous energy present in every cell of his body. Even though order had been restored on _Voyager_ after the recent mutiny, he still found himself tensing whenever he stepped outside his own quarters. Even his hideaway on Deck 15 no longer felt safe. His hands slipped on the PADD he was holding, nearly causing him to drop it, and he realized they were clammy with sweat. He didn’t usually seek people out in general, and especially not Megan Delaney. However, thirteen nights had passed since the former Maquis had attempted to take _over_ Voyager, and since then he’d found it impossible to fall asleep, tossing and turning on the hard Starfleet-issued mattress. He counted sheep, he drank hot milk, he paced, indulged in a warm sonic shower, and despite regulations recommending against them, he was thinking about sleeping aids. _What if_ lurked incessantly at the edges of his mind; in all his life, he rarely second guessed any of his decisions or actions, and yet here he was.

After what seemed an eternity, the door slid open and _she_ stood in front of him. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a loose tunic over leggings. She looked pale and tired, and if she was surprised to see him at her door, she didn’t show any outward sign. _Her_ name was at the tip of his tongue, but he corrected himself quickly. “Megan,” he said, hoping she hadn’t noticed the hesitation, the sheer shock of seeing Jenny’s face looking backing at him.

Without a word, she stepped to the side and gestured for him to come in.

He sucked in his breath as he stepped inside. In a corner of his mind, he was surprised she’d let him in. He had never before been to the quarters Megan and her sister Jenny had shared. During their nearly 6 months aboard _Voyager_ , the sisters had made themselves comfortable in this space, and every surface was covered with holo-images and knickknacks. There were some dirty dishes on the table, and one of the two beds remained unmade. The other one had been made up, Starfleet-regulation style, and a heart-shaped pillow lay at the head of it. Between the bed and the wall, Harren saw a stack of three metal boxes, the kind in which personal effects were stored. Harren swallowed hard. He waited for her to ask him why he was there, but from her continued silence, he realized it was up to him to speak first.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said. His voice felt hoarse, his throat dry. “But I found something that belongs to you.”

“It’s ok,” Megan said. “I wasn’t doing anything.” She nodded towards the boxes. “Hogan and Rollins brought those by yesterday.” And then she added unnecessarily, “For Jenny’s things.”

“I see,” Harren said, and again the specter of _what if_ reared its head. _What if he had gone with the captain and Jenny? Why hadn’t he insisted on accompanying them? Why had he stayed behind on deck 15?_ Logic told him that he had been obeying a direct order from the captain, but still. Images rose in his mind, as they had so many times since he’d heard how Jenny died – of the two women caught in an ambush by the Maquis, taking heavy fire. _If I had been there, I would have saved her_.

“You said you had something for me?” Megan’s question interrupted his thoughts of self-recrimination.

“Yes,” Harren said. He rarely found it difficult to speak, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He handed the PADD over. “I was sorting through some of the stuff in my office – I mean, the plasma relay room - and I found this. Jenny must have left it one time by accident.” He coughed nervously. “It looks like a holoprogram she was making for you.” At Megan’s surprised look, he said in a rush, “I only read through the first few lines of code before I figured out what it was. I didn’t look at it more than that. I swear.” He paused and finding Megan’s silence alarming, he added awkwardly, “I thought you might want it.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Megan said. She fingered the edge of the PADD with the tip of her fingers. The corners of her mouth trembled slightly. “A holoprogram – I had no idea she was working on this, but then again, we weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye in those last few weeks.” She sighed, her gaze involuntarily drifting back to the metal boxes.

“I can help you pack up her things, if you need it,” Harren said. The words were out of his mouth before he had the chance to think them through and it immediately occurred to him that he might have overstepped. Clearly Megan was surprised by his offer too, but she shook her head.

“No, but thank you,” she said. She folded herself into the corner of the sofa and gestured to Harren to take a seat. He swallowed his astonishment but pulled out a chair. “Eventually I’ll get to it, but not today, certainly not tonight.” Her lips curved into the tiniest of sad smiles. “Maybe not even tomorrow.” She took a deep breath. “It was hard enough dealing with personal effects of near-strangers - all those who didn’t make it when the Caretaker pulled us into the Delta Quadrant. Did you know that Jenny and I were assigned to clean out Commander Cavit’s quarters so—” she paused “—Commander Chakotay could take them over?”

“No, I didn’t,” Harren said, and then added, “I cleaned out Lieutenant Stadi’s quarters. With Lieutenant Nicoletti’s help.”

“Ah, Sue,” Megan said, her shoulders shuddering slightly. She squeezed her eyes shut, and her chest heaved in quick short vibrations. “I wonder who’s cleaning out _her_ things now?”

“Lieutenant Torres and Lieutenant Carey said they would do it.” Harren looked down at his hands. He’d always found Susan Nicoletti a little abrasive, even though she was one of the few aboard _Voyager_ whose intellect matched his own. He would miss arguing cosmological theories with her.

After a moment, Megan looked up and took a long shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I’m still trying to understand what happened, you know? I keep expecting to see Jenny in the Mess Hall or even here,” she gestured towards the bed with the heart-shaped pillow. “Sometimes I think I see her out of the corner of my eye, but of course there’s no one there.”

“I’ve heard others say the same thing,” Harren said carefully. He didn’t want to say he understood, because as an only child, he didn’t know what it was like having a sibling, let alone a twin. He also hadn’t really made close friendships about _Voyager_ , though he did know who everyone was by sight and there were a few whose company he _did_ prefer. Jenny Delaney had been one of those people, even if she refused to talk to him any more than duty required her to. It had been a shock to his system the first time after the mutiny he’d automatically tried to hail Jenny Delaney and the computer had duly informed him that Delaney, Jenavive was deceased. It was then the enormity of what had happened hit him and for unmeasurable minutes afterwards, he found it difficult to breathe.

“What do they say?” Megan said. “To be honest, I don’t really want to see or talk to anybody.” And then she added forcefully, “I don’t want to talk about _Jenny_.”

Harren caught his breath. He had never been good in these types of situations and what the hell had he been thinking coming here? He could have just dropped the PADD off and walked away. The words collided and jumbled in his mouth, his throat turning increasingly scratchy as he struggled. Thankfully, Megan didn’t seem to expect him to answer.

Harren shifted his position. “People are wondering that the captain will do now,” he said. “The brig is full—”

“And they can _rot_ there,” Megan said fiercely. “After what they did, you can’t convince _me_ that there’s a way Maquis and Starfleet can work together. We offered them friendship and a way home and look at how they repaid us.” Her lip curled, as her eyes narrowed, and jaw tightened. “They killed my sister and if I’m ever face to face with one of them again…”

“Not all the Maquis were involved in the mutiny,” Harren said quietly. “Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Torres, people like Ayala and Hogan…or Jor, who was in Sickbay at the time. So, there’s a lot of talk about that too.” He looked down at his hands. “But mostly everyone is saying the same thing as you. Joe Carey said that Seska threatened to leave the Starfleet crew – those left alive - on an L-class planet. Now there’s more than a few people thinking an L-class planet is too good for the mutineers.”

“I agree,” Megan said. She eyed him closely a s she shifted position on the sofa. ‘What about you? What do you think?”

Harren blinked. No one had asked him much of anything in the days following the mutiny. Pre-mutiny, he mostly kept to himself, even in the Mess Hall where he preferred to keep reading in solitude while choking down Neelix’s latest creations. It allowed him to listen and absorb what was going around him without worry of being bothered. “Lieutenant Torres is my boss,” Harren said, surprised at how defensive he felt, but if he was being honest with himself, many of the feelings and emotions he’d been grappling with since the mutiny were revelatory. “And she was instrumental in helping us take back the ship and I heard from Lieutenant Carey that Commander Chakotay shot Seska. Seska, by all accounts, was the ringleader, and she’s gone now.” He offered a slight sardonic smile. “The head of the dragon has been chopped off, so to speak.”

“Gone, as in escaped. She got away scot-free,” Megan said angrily. “Do you feel safe, knowing she’s out there somewhere?” Harren pressed his lips together into a straight line. Finally, he shook his head. “There’s nothing safe about the Delta Quadrant,” he said. He stared at the boxes that had been brought to store Jenny’s personal items. _Why didn’t I go with them? Why didn’t go I with_ **her**? “And it’s a long way home.”

Megan choked on a sob. “I don’t know how we’re going to survive.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Harren had crossed the distance between them, and hugged Megan fiercely. She leaned into him as her body shook. He was unaware of the passage of time as he knelt on the floor and he ignored the strain in his muscles from the awkwardness of the position. When she finally stopped crying, Harren awkwardly pulled away and sat back on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” Megan said, rubbing at her eyes. “Sometimes, I just can’t stop.”

“It’s ok,” Harren said.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Megan said. “I don’t want Commander Chakotay to take me off duty. I’m _fine_.” She lifted her chin – _the same way Jenny did, no, had_. “I am _fine_.” Her gaze was expectant, as if she was daring him to contradict what she’d said.

Instead, he said, “So am I.”

The silence hung between them, and finally, Harren got to his feet. “I should go, let you get some rest.”

“Thanks for bringing that by,” Megan said, indicating the PADD.

“Sure.” Harren waited a moment and then he said, “And again, if you need someone with you when you…” he pointed at the boxes.

Megan looked surprised and then she nodded. “Thanks.”

Out in the corridor, Harren took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, ignoring when Tal Celes and Billy Telfer passed by speaking in hushed tones, barely nodding to him in greeting, phasers at their sides. Harren wondered how long it would be before the crew and their captain relaxed enough that those phasers would be once again stored in the weapons lockers. He wondered when voices rose to normal speaking tones. And more importantly, he wondered how long it would take them to know that it was more than just survival at stake; that what and how their lives unfolded on this ship was still very much mattered. 


End file.
